n as in childhood, to her mother's neck, and as she
wept, felt yet more bitterly the infatuated folly of her conduct in
having for a moment forsaken the guidance of her true and kindest
friend, for the apparently more pleasing, because flattering, confidence
of one whom she now knew to be false and utterly deceiving.

"But may he not still claim me?" she wildly exclaimed. "Will he not hold
me up to the world as a faithless, capricious girl? I shall be the
laughing-stock of all with whom we associate. Annie is not likely to
keep my secret. Oh, why did I ever confide in her? Mother, I shall be
despised, derided. I know I have brought it on myself, but oh, how can I
bear it?"

"We leave London so very shortly, that I trust you will not be exposed
to the derision you so much dread," replied Mrs. Hamilton, soothingly,
"and by next season I hope all floating rumours that your conduct must
occasion may have entirely passed away. You need not fear the scorn of
the circle in which we principally mingle; and that of Annie's
companions, if the dread of their laughter keep you from seeking, as you
have done, their society, forgive me, my love, if I say I shall rejoice;
for you will then no longer be exposed to example and precept contrary
to those I have endeavoured to instil."

"But, Lord Alphingham, what will he say or do?" murmured Caroline,
almost inaudibly.

"You must write to him, Caroline, dissolving your engagement; there is
no other way."

"Write to him, mother, I--oh, no, no, I cannot."

"If you do not, you will still be exposed to constant annoyance; he may
choose to believe that you were forced by compulsion to return to us.
The circumstance of the Duchess herself accompanying you to town, he
will consider as sufficient evidence. Acting on your promise, on your
avowed preference, unless you write yourself, he will leave no means
untried to succeed in his sinful schemes. Painful as is the task, or
rather more disagreeable than painful if you do not love him, no one but
yourself must write, and the sooner you do so the better."

"But if he really loves me? How can I--how dare I inflict more pain,
more disappointment, than I have done already?"

"Loves you!" repeated Mrs. Hamilton, and displeasure mingled in her
saddened tone; "Caroline, do not permit yourself to be thus egregiously
deceived. He may fancy that he does, but it is no true honourable love;
if it were, would he thus bear you by stealth from the friend